


They All Die At The End

by HopelessRomantic01



Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Dream Team SMP Setting (Video Blogging RPF), Angst, Dream Team SMP Spoilers, Dream is a bitch, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Gen, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Post-Manberg-Pogtopia War on Dream Team SMP (Video Blogging RPF), Protective Sam | Awesamdude, Sam Nook - Freeform, TommyInnit Misses Toby Smith | Tubbo, Traumatized Tommyinnit (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, someone give tommy a damn hug, title is not indicative of content I just thought it was funny, tommy is put into prison
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-12 08:21:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29132481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HopelessRomantic01/pseuds/HopelessRomantic01
Summary: Punz never arrives. Tommy and Tubbo face Dream alone in the Basement, with no escape and an impossible choice. Not a choice, really, as Dream will take what he wants either way. Tommy. Despite Tommy's efforts, it seems as though this is the end of the line for Tubbo. Everything falls apart, the ashes of L'Manberg and its founders drifting away into the unknown.
Comments: 11
Kudos: 122





	1. Goodbye, Tommy

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place after Tommy and Tubbo's conversation where Tubbo says he has resigned to Dream's demand. If you haven't seen that stream, I will direct you to this video: https://youtu.be/NOxKqIjGAIU that will give you the gist, but I highly suggest you go watch the streams at Tubbo or Tommy's streams on Twitch.tv
> 
> Hey you, shippers, please don't make any of this weird by going "mmm they said they love each other canon" no it's just all platonic.  
> Lmao enjoy everyone!

“Say your goodbyes.”

“T-Tubbo...” Tommy’s shakey whisper echoed through the dark halls of the basement, distant calls from Henry and Friend mingling with his broken voice. “Don’t go, please don’t go.”

Tubbo stood a few feet away, his small form trembling in the dim light. He put on a smile and looked back over his shoulder at his best friend. “It’s alright, Tommy. We’ve said our goodbyes. It’s time for me to go.” Tommy’s heart cracked at the sight of his friend, scared but putting on a brave face. Tubbo had changed so much during his presidency, making him more resilient, stronger. But no amount of strength could return the sparkle to his once cerulean eyes. Instead now they were the dull blue of worn jeans, months of hardship wearing on the young boy.

Tommy shook his head fervently, taking a few hurried steps toward Tubbo and grabbing the former president’s green shirt. “I-I....” but the words wouldn’t come. He had so little time left yet he couldn’t speak. He had so much he needed to tell Tubbo, so many wrongs that had yet to be fully righted. Tommy’s exile, his defecting to Technoblade, their fight over the discs. While things seemed to be in order, their friendship righted once again, Tommy could feel the strain that stretched across their silences, the hesitant looks and unsure words. Something had broken between them, and Tommy couldn’t fix it. He was never one for words, and struggled to articulate his thoughts without the help of violence. This trait was evident through the griefing of George’s house, the war he wrought on his own country when it turned its back on him. Tommy and Tubbo may have reunited under one common goal, but were they okay again? Would they ever be?

Tubbo’s smile melted into one of pity and reassurance, as if he could see Tommy’s racing thoughts. He was always so good at masking his emotions, especially for Tommy. Tubbo turned so he was facing his taller friend. “I know you’re not one for, well, sentiments... but I want you to know Tommy.” 

Tears burned Tommy’s eyes.

“Through everything we’ve been through-“

Tommy grit his teeth, willing the tears to subside.

“-Through our fights, together and against one another-“

Tommy sucked in a sharp breath.

“-I love you.”

The dams broke as those words were spoken, carrying so much affection that it overwhelmed him. Usually, Tommy would be mildly disgusted and make a joke about how stupid Tubbo was being. But now, now he couldn’t manage one. He squeezed Tubbo’s shirt and Tubbo gently pried Tommy’s hand off, taking another step towards Dream.

“Say your goodbyes.” The man clad in a green sweatshirt and a ceramic mask repeated, the sword shimmering at his side sending pulses of unnatural magic through the room.

“Goodbye, Tommy.” Tubbo managed a weakly cheerful wave.

“No, no. No. I refuse-You will not die-“ Tommy was almost begging now, horror and helplessness freezing him to the spot. But Tubbo felt his heart soar a little. This was Tommy’s way of saying...

_“I love you too.”_

Tubbo turned to Dream and opened his arms. He closed his eyes, taking a long breath and opening them as he exhaled. This was it. The end of the line. He would not back down now, not cower in fear. Being afraid of Dream, afraid of his influence, is what caused him to hurt his best friend in the first place. “You promise to let Tommy go.” He insisted, glaring up at the man. Dream’s mouth quirked up behind his white mask, unseen to Tubbo. “You will not harm him.”

After a long moment, Dream shifted his weight so he was using the sword as a cane. “I promise.” Dream responded, his smooth voice echoing through the space. “I am many things, Tubbo. But I do not break promises.” The sword digging into the blackstone floor sparked as it made contact, and Tubbo struggled to swallow the anxiety that clawed its way up his throat.

Tubbo nodded, steadying himself. “Get it done with, then. Tommy, I suggest you-“

There was a sickening slice, followed by a choking gasp and a thud. Then silence.

That was when the screaming started.


	2. An Old Story

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade knows a lot about Greek mythology. How ironic Tommy would find himself in the middle of a Greek tragedy of his own making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story takes up all of my brain space so here is chapter two! I'm sorry the chapters are so short, but I get distracted easily so I try to post more frequently in order to keep the momentum going. Hopefully, I will be able to write longer chapters as the story picks up. I hope people enjoy this story, the Dream SMP has so many great actors in it, and the writing is fantastic. Being part of the community is huge for me, and writing this AU helps me appreciate it even more.
> 
> I hope you all feel the same!

_“Technoblade, you called me Theseus, the other day.” Tommy said suddenly, patting one of the various dogs sitting in the underground tunnels._

_Techno’s ear flicked towards Tommy, the only indication that he heard his younger brother over the cacophony of hounds. The massive pig stood, his crown almost brushing the ceiling as he moved to the next row of dogs._

_Tommy swallowed. “And when you summoned the Withers and y'know, killed everyone-” That earned a small chuckle from the Blade, one that sent Tommy’s skin crawling with the memory. “-you told me the story of Theseus. That’s Greek Mythology, right?”_

_Technoblade nodded. “That would be correct.” He tossed some rotten flesh to a dog who barked appreciatively and began to eat. “Never thought you’d take an interest in that.”_

_Tommy made a face, quickly recovering from his curiosity with nonsensical blabbering. “No no, no I don’t, it’s all stupid and I like to focus on WOMEN mythology eh?”_

_Technoblade stared at Tommy, his snout crinkled with indignant confusion. After a long moment he shrugged. “Whatever you say, Tommy.” He began to walk a few meters away when Tommy spoke again._

_“What is Pandora’s Vault?”_

_Technoblade halted, glancing over his shoulder. “Pandora’s what?”_

_“Vault. Are you going hard of hearing, old man?” Tommy snickered, mimicking Techno’s confusion in his own condescending voice. “Americans so hard of hearing am I right, chat?”_

_Technoblade sighed a long suffering sigh as he listened to Tommy’s rambling, and shoved away the voices that crowded his head shouting the real name of the myth. “It is called Pandora’s Box.”_

_Tommy snorted. “No, no, no chat says Pandora’s Vault. They’re spamming it right now.”_

_Technoblade blinked, a little irritated that Tommy talked about the voices so nonchalantly. Or that he talked in general. “It’s Pandora’s Box, you idiot-” not like he studied it in college or whatever, “-do you know the myth?”_

_Tommy seemed to think hard for a bit, his bright blue eyes scanning the top of his eyelids like some sort of grocery scanner. Tommy felt Techno’s fathomless eyes on him and he huffed. “Can’t say I have.”_

_Technoblade smiled wistfully, his tusks glinting in the dim, flickering light of the torches mounted along the stone walls. “It’s a fascinating story…”_

Tommy awoke suddenly, darting up in a bed shrouded by darkness, surrounded by obsidian. His hands shook as they ran through his short blonde hair, down his face and coming to rest on his shoulders. His breaths came in short, ragged gasps. _Don’t think about that, no no no, don’t remember,_ he begged his waning mind. He didn’t want to remember the time he spent with his brother before everything went to shit. Before he turned on the person who gave him a home when he had nothing, before his home was destroyed for the last time. 

Tommy hadn’t thought he was capable of it, and he sure as hell didn’t acknowledge it, but he missed Technoblade. Techno had found Tommy when he was rock bottom, standing on both the literal and proverbial edge, and given him purpose again. For that, Tommy would always harbor some form of begrudging gratitude.

Tommy stood, willing his shaking legs to be steady, as he slipped off the edge of the hole in the corner of the bedroom, into the pool of water below that opened into the cell. The intense orange glow of the lava flowing down the cell entrance made the space almost uncomfortably hot, and Tommy splashed his face with some water from the cauldron nearby. Bracing his hands on the edges, he stared into the water at his own haggard reflection, a nearly perfect match to what he had seen on the ice as he ran from Dream in exile.

It had been three days since Tubbo died. True to Dream’s word, Tommy was not killed. He was set free into L’Manberg for exactly twenty five minutes to collect his things, put them into a hole, and watch as everything he had worked for out of exile was blown up by a man in a green hoodie.

Then, he was locked away.

Pandora’s Vault, Dream had called it, a smile lilting his voice as he shoved Tommy into the portal, waiting for Sam to let them into the prison. Tommy vaguely remembered Technoblade telling him about something reminiscent of that name, in the weeks they were plotting revenge against L’Manberg, against… Tubbo.

Tommy refused to think of that night, even as his morbid thoughts circled him like vultures in his isolated cell. He refused to feel the sticky warmth that coated his hands, his clothes, as he held Tubbo in his arms, screaming his best friend’s name in vain.

Tommy turned his head so he was staring directly at the lava, its bubbling and popping drowned out by the ringing in his head. Tommy sighed heavily, deciding that if he couldn’t wake up and choose violence, he would choose annoyance.

“Saaaaaaam?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess who shows up next chapter~  
> I have big plans for my dear Sam Nook-I mean Awesamdude.


	3. The Warden

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awesamdude watched as his friend rallied the people of the server under one goal: defeat Dream. Now, he is in charge of keeping Tommy locked away in the most secure prison of his own making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know this chapter has a few canon scenes, and I know they are not exact retelling of the scenes themselves, so sorry about that. I keep having to remind myself that this is a Diversion from Canon AU, so not everything will be exactly as it happened in the streams.
> 
> I hope you guys like Sam, I have many plans for him in the future. :)

Sam had built the prison under Dream’s wishes, creating perhaps the most elaborate and secure build in the entire server. When Dream had first come to him with the request-and a lot of netherite-Sam had been suspicious. What would Dream, “god” of the server, need a jail for? As far as Sam knew, everyone obeyed Dream’s demands, regardless of their country. After the fall of Wilbur Soot and the supposed retirement of Technoblade, all of Dream’s enemies were taken care of.

Except, perhaps, a young rebel named TommyInnit. But Dream assured Sam that he had TommyInnit under his control, and to just focus on the build. He had twenty days.

Sam immediately got to work. He pushed the lingering doubts out of his mind, focusing on doing what he did best. BadBoyHalo came to him with complaints about the shoreline being taken over by the sprawling blackstone building, but Dream assured him it would increase the property value. Sam wasn’t so sure about that. But Sam was merely the builder. The architect. The creeper-hybrid with a penchant for creation. Who was he to argue with Dream? 

When TommyInnit was declared dead by President Tubbo, Sam was horrified. Tommy had long been his friend, welcoming Sam to his drug operation many months ago, and often seeking out Sam when Tommy wanted to escape conflict. Tommy’s supposed suicide cut deeper than it should have, stalling his work on the prison for a few days. When encouraged by Dream to start again he buried himself in his work to ignore the sorrow building in him.

When the entire server was summoned to the Community House, Sam had been astonished to learn that Tommy, not only alive and well, had sided with Technoblade in plotting the destruction of L’Manberg. Sam watched, helpless with shock, as Tommy and Tubbo slashed at each other, axe against sword, friend against friend. The fight had ended in a truce, with Technoblade promising that Tommy’s betrayal, L’Manberg’s betrayal, would not be taken lightly. 

***

_Tommy let out a shaky exhale as Technoblade launched into the sky, towards the nether portal. No one chased him… no one dared to. Tommy stared down at his hands, healing blisters from training with Techno now reopened by his fight with Tubbo. Healed wounds reopened, huh? How ironic._

_There were footsteps behind him and he turned, faced with several skeptical citizens of the SMP. Niki spoke first. “Are you happy now?” Her voice was shrill, tears staining her pretty face. “Have you finally gotten what you wanted?”_

_Tommy glanced between them all, taken aback. “W-what? What are you going on about?”_

_“The Community House!” HBomb answered, his usually kind voice hard with anger._

_“Did you have to blow it up?” Niki continued, taking a few steps towards him and poking his chest roughly. “Why did you destroy it?”_

_Angry voices rose in a chorus, blaming Tommy for Dream’s threats, Technoblade’s inevitable attack… Meanwhile Sam merely watched, having drifted over from the ruins of the beloved House. Citizens from every land, Badlands, L’Manberg, Greater Dream SMP, and everywhere else gathered in anger to shout at the teenager in tattered clothing, seeming small in his big brother’s massive cloak._

_Tommy stepped away, lifting his hands in a desperate attempt to be heard. Sam stood at the back of the crowd as Tommy pleaded with Niki, insisting on his innocence. As Sam thought, the voices around him died into a dull murmur. Tommy, blowing up the Community House. Would he even do such a thing? Tommy might have been reckless, yes, but he was also desperate to be well-liked. He must have known that destroying the only common ground in the entire land would have set everyone against him._

_If the fact that he allied himself with a known terrorist didn’t._

_Sam was brought back to his senses by Tommy climbing on top of a chest, addressing the full crowd. “-and I don’t care if you believe me or don’t, because L’Manberg, is all of our L’Manberg.” He paused for emphasis, seeming to collect his thoughts. “So if you hate me or you think I’m the best-which you should-it doesn’t matter. Because L’Manberg is going down if we don’t stop it. Stop Dream and Technoblade.”_

_There was a moment of hesitance in the crowd before Sam made his way to the front. “TommyInnit,” Sam began, his voice slightly distorted by his mask. What was he doing? Why was he drawing attention to himself? As all eyes fell on him, Sam felt his heart race, and the mask over his mouth glowed as it subdued his explosive power. Tommy froze, swallowing hard. “Swear to me, on… Something that you love.” He had moved closer to Tommy, towering over him. He had to know. He had to know that Tommy wouldn’t do this. “That this wasn’t you.”_

_He stared at Tommy, his goggles glinting in the setting sun. “Because if you did, I will gladly join Dream in destroying your discs.” He promised, his voice dark. Tommy had shown up at the ruins of the Community House, claiming his innocence and only making himself more suspicious in the process. What would Tommy swear on? The discs? Tubbo?_

_In the crowd, Fundy piped up. “Swear on primes!”_

_Tommy hesitated, earning scornful hisses from Niki and the others, before clearing his throat and looking towards the Community House. “I swear, on Church Prime-” gasps could be heard in the audience “-that it wasn’t me.”_

_Sam stood still as the promise sunk in. He nodded once, as Tommy continued, rallying the citizens and dishing out orders. For a sixteen year old, Tommy was a remarkably strong leader. But even as Eret welcomed Tommy back with a pat on the back, and Quackity cheered, waving his shirt around like a flag, Sam felt the contention in the crowd. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Niki shaking her head, glaring at Tommy. HBomb merely stared, looking tired. Jack Manifold looked on, his emotions covered by his 3D glasses. Sam felt uneasy. This wouldn’t be as simple as the last war for L’Manberg was. Everyone had been united under a common goal that was overthrowing JSchlatt, but this time… Sam took a step back. He had to finish the prison. As he walked away he could hear the joyful shouting of the renegade army, but his heart did not match their enthusiasm…_

***

When the hounds were let loose on L’Manberg, Sam was putting the final touches on his prison. While testing the portal mechanics, Sam found himself watching as countless withers set months of history and pride aflame, a grotesque obsidian grid dropping TNT on the screaming citizens below. And… TommyInnit, facing off against Technoblade. The kid he had seen make an eloquent speech only a day before now stood on the ashes of his country, one arm held out to protect his best friend, the other holding a shining axe pointed at Technoblade.

On the other side of the chasm, the massive pig was yelling about something, gesturing wildly to the destruction around them. Sam couldn’t hear what was being said but the emotions were conveyed enough. The ground shook underneath him as the explosions grew dangerously close. A wither caught sight of him and wailed, launching purple fire at him. He scrambled out of the way, panic rushing through him. This was it. There were so many withers, they would never kill them all. Sam ducked behind the portal frame, catching his breath. His head was ringing, the explosions and shouting fading into a dull roar as he held his head and panted, willing himself to calm down. Smoke poured from his mouth and he ripped off the mask, choking on the smoke. He didn’t know how long he sat there for, but when his ears stopped ringing and he no longer tasted gunpowder, the hollow shrieks of the withers had died down and there was only an occasional explosion far away. Sam stumbled to his feet and bore witness to the destruction around him, chasms digging all the way down to bedrock. The cries of the wounded and the shouts of the rescuers were drowned out by torrential rain, accompanied by thunder. Sam let the water drench him, putting out any last spark in him. But with thunder came lightning. He had to go, in case some stray bolt hit him and… well one more explosion wouldn’t really mean much in this scenario, would it? Sam rushed back to the prison, desperate to take refuge in its safe walls once more.

Who knew that his previous safe-haven would become hell for him soon enough.

***

“Saaaaaam?” TommyInnit’s voice rang through the speakers in Sam’s office, letting him know the prisoner needed something. Sam sighed, putting down his book and pressing the button to respond.

“Yes, Tommy?”

There was a slight pause before, “What’s the worst word you know?”

Sam blinked. What? “Why do you want to know that?”

Another pause. “Just tell me.”

Sam rubbed his temples, pulling at the straps of his goggles to let his hair free. “No, Tommy.”

Sam could hear mumbling on the other end, the only words he could make out were “Americans” and “no fun”. There was an audible click that meant Tommy had hung up and Sam reclined back in his chair, pulling out his book once more. Tommy was… an interesting prisoner. Instead of mourning his friend and his country, like most would, he seemed to channel any grief he had into his usual antics. Sam wondered absently if he should get Tommy a therapist. He heard Captain Puffy had started a business. 

“Sam.” Sam resisted the urge to groan, uncrossing his legs from the desk and setting them on the floor as he pressed the pager.

“Yes, Tommy.”

“Is anyone going to visit me today?” The hopeful optimism in the boy’s voice made Sam’s stomach drop. No one had visited Tommy since he had been imprisoned three days ago. Not even Dream. Any annoyance at Tommy’s antics dissipated as he imagined himself in Tommy’s position. In solitary confinement, day in and day out, with no one who wanted to see him.

Or, no one that was allowed to.

Sam had been given specific instructions to not let anyone visit Tommy for the time being. Dream had made sure that Sam understood that when he returned from locking a silent, broken Tommy in the Vault. 

“Hey, Sam, can you hear me? Are you hard of hearing? I swear, all these Americans…” Sam cleared his head of the thoughts, rapidly pressing the button to respond again.

“Er, no, not today.” He paused for a moment before pity overtook him. “I’m sorry.” The line clicked off, and Sam waited with baited breath for a response, any response. There was none. “Tommy?” He breathed, a strangely high amount of concern rising in him. 

The line picked up again. “Ah, no worries Big Man. Just havin’ a chat with the boys!” Relief swept through him at Tommy’s assurance, despite the strange comment about… 

“The boys?”

“My chat. Or I guess, the voices in my head, ooooooo.” Sam could hear Tommy’s grin through the connection. “Pretty pog. Keeps me from goin’ all loopy in here, yeah?”

_It might be a bit late for that…_ Sam thought, and made a mental note to schedule an appointment with Captain Puffy as soon as Dream allowed in visitors.

“Anyway, thanks for the chat!” Tommy hung up and left Sam in the silence, pondering the sanity of the child currently locked in the most secure part of the prison. He might have been commissioned to build this place, and asked to run it, but keeping Tommy in here… It definitely felt wrong. Sam made another mental note to talk to Dream about his decision, or at least ask for some other form of entertainment other than a clock and blank notebooks for Tommy. 

He was suddenly struck with how much he actually cared about Tommy’s wellbeing, and was thoroughly surprised by it. Why did he care about the war-mongering child that had started almost every single war in the server? No, it wasn’t that he cared, of course not! He just would rather Tommy not annoy him all day long. That was it. Yes indeed. 

……… yeah. 

Sam huffed and set his head down on the cold desk, staring at his feet. The workboots with army-green trousers tucked into them blurred with the blackstone floor as he goggles fogged up with his breath. Sam pulled them off his head and cleaned them with his shirt, his black eyes glimmering in the soft orange glow of the redstone lamps lining the floor and walls. He missed the days where he had lived in the Badlands, minding his own business, away from the conflict that surrounded the children of the server. He missed Bad and Ant, even if they had been acting strange recently. But in all honesty, Sam had been so focused on making sure the prison remained secure that he hadn’t been able to check in on them. For the third time that day, Sam made a mental note. Check on friends.

Fitting his goggles back into place, Sam decided it was high-time for an inspection of the redstone mechanisms in place. He stood and stretched, sliding the book in a drawer before grabbing his trident and pulling the lever that would open the door to allow him further into the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy cow might I just say thank you for all the support? I know not many people have commented on this but even the littlest bit of encouragement goes a long way in keeping me motivated to write more. 
> 
> Y’all are fantastic and I love you :)


	4. Such Sweet Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Technoblade, Philza and Ranboo discuss their plans for the day, but Techno can’t seem to stay focused. Tommy’s imprisonment following his betrayal has shaken the family more than they would care to admit.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Is this chapter biased to make Techno and Phil look like uncaring assholes because I am still angry with them on how they treated Tommy even before Tommy betrayed them?
> 
> ........ n-no-
> 
> Tell me why Sam is a better damn father than Phil huh??? (All jokes all jokes) I love Phil and Techno they’re my favorites lmao.

“Er, Techno?” The distinct accent of his father snapped Technoblade from his thoughts, and he looked up, towards where Philza was standing in the doorway. “The zombie villager is cured.”

Technoblade nodded absently and stood, taking off his reading glasses and gently placing them on the crafting bench near the fireplace, careful to not break them again. He followed Philza down the ladder to his basement, hopping down onto the cold stone floor with a grace that did not match his size. Philza gestured to the villager looking around in confusion at their surroundings. 

“Very pog,” Techno grinned and helped the villager out of the boat they sat in. After setting them up downstairs with the other villagers, Techno went out into the snow, blinking at the brightness that threatened to consume everything. He had a headache.

Phil followed Techno out into the day, his bucket hat shading his blue eyes from the overwhelming sun. A cold wind sent both his and Techno’s cloaks swaying and making Techno’s ear flick. “What’s on the docket for today?” Phil asked, his seemingly permanent smile lilting his voice.

Techno thought for a moment. Just as he was about to respond, a familiar voice called out behind them. “Hello there!”

Techno and Phil turned to see the half-enderman hybrid, Ranboo, walking towards him. Standing only a few inches shorter than Techno, Ranboo’s black and white skin was flushed with the cold breeze that sent his fluffy hair and tailored suit-jacket flapping. “Hullo.” Techno greeted the young man, and Philza echoed the sentiment. Ranboo had come to live with the pair after the destruction of L’Manberg, living in a little hut on the other side of the hill. Techno wasn’t sure how he felt about Ranboo, the hybrid being constantly polite to everyone; it felt like he was hiding something. Then again, weren’t they all? As Ranboo and Phil sparked up a conversation about Ranboo’s living situation-the “comfort room” still weirded Technoblade out-Techno grew lost in thought, fading into the dull roar of the voices in his head. A lot of them said meaningless things, and he had learned at a young age to block the unnecessary noise. But some of them… they seemed to be fixated on Dream and Ranboo. Techno gave the enderman a sidelong glance, the young man’s cheery demeanor only making him more unsettled. Something connected Ranboo and Dream, hm? Then again, the voices often led him astray and left him scrabbling for answers to a question that did not exist. He had seen no evidence of Dream being connected to Ranboo-actually, Techno wasn’t sure he had seen them in the same room together. Just as he came to the conclusion to write the thought away, Phil’s voice cut through the voices like a knife.

“Ah, yeah, he does that sometimes. Just give ‘im a bit.” Techno blinked, looking between them. Ranboo was shifting uncomfortably while Phil chuckled softly. It was then Techno realized he had been staring at Ranboo rather intently. 

“Sorry, just got lost in thought.” Techno waved his hand dismissively, turning so he didn’t have to look at the others. “Y’all are just borin’ me to death, I went deaf with boredom.” Everyone chuckled a bit at that. Recently he had been drifting into that headspace more, but he wasn’t sure why. He had gotten so good at remaining in the present and focused… what had happened?

Phil toyed with the short braid that stuck out at the back of his head. “Ranboo and I were just discussing L’Manberg-or lack thereof. It seems that everyone left it.” He sounded… not proud… but satisfied. Phil was almost as anti-government as Techno was, and had played a large role in destroying the largest country on the server. The one that had turned its back on him.

And Tommy.

“Is that so? Good, good. No more government pog!” Techno cheered with his classic monotonous voice. Phil responded in kind, and the sentiment was echoed weakly by Ranboo. The enderman had previously been part of L’Manberg, acting as traitor to Techno and Tommy, feeding them information in order to play the part of “neutral party”, but really that only succeeded in making him sworn enemy number 2-after Techno of course-in the eyes of many citizens. After being kicked out of a smouldering L’Manberg, Phil offered the young man a place to stay. Unfortunately, that meant Ranboo was often around when Techno was, making him stand through social interaction that neither party was eloquent in. 

Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck, looking slightly embarrassed. “Yeah, especially after Tubbo was, y’know, killed.”

At that everyone got silent. Word of Tubbo’s death had spread like wildfire, especially with Dream’s announcement server-wide of the former president’s death. With no one to run the ruined country, citizens of L’Manberg fled to other communities. The one person who would have been able to run it after Tubbo was gone… was gone as well. When Technoblade had first heard about Tommy being locked up he had been unaffected. Tommy had used him, betrayed him, and paid the price. 

But imagining his little brother alone in a cell, with nothing but the memories of his failures, it made Techno grin. It was what that bastard deserved, for hurting everyone who tried to help him, using his own _family_ and then betraying them at the last moment. He went back to Tubbo, to the government that cast him aside, and what did he get from it? Locked in a prison forever, his best friend murdered in front of him.

When Phil had heard the news, however, his reaction had been rather different. Techno could remember the way Phil’s permanent smile faded, his bright blue eyes-almost identical to his son’s-darkening with disbelief. Phil hadn’t been quite close to Tommy, not the way he had been to Techno and Wilbur, but he was still Tommy’s father. Hearing that his youngest son had been locked in an inescapable prison was rather jarring. But he made no move to dissuade Dream, to make a plan to save Tommy. He had just flown off, coming back silently with stacks of quartz and gold. It wasn’t hard for Techno to realize he had spent hours in the Nether, mining needlessly. Soon after he had left, Techno spotted all of his father’s good pickaxes in a chest. He had taken none of them, save for an un-enchanted iron one. That thought-that Phil had chosen to do the hard labor instead of breezing through the reddened stone-was the most unsettling to Technoblade.

“I was thinking of visiting him, actually.” Ranboo had continued, kicking up snow with his armored boots. “Tommy. See how he’s doing.”

“Yeah.” Phil murmured absently, and Techno knew full well neither of them would set foot in that prison. Feelings towards Tommy aside, they were still very much wanted men.

Techno cleared his throat. “Eh, do whatever you want. Actually…” He turned to Phil and Ranboo. “If everyone abandoned L’Manberg, it would probably be safe for me ‘n Phil there. No government to adhere to, no problem!” The thought excited him. Out in the tundra they may have all they need, but in the ruins of L’Manberg there could possibly be something up for the taking. Besides, Techno would readily admit he liked to bask in glory. And seeing the smoldering, crumbling structures of the worst country in the server would be one hell of a victory lap. 

“I want to check up on Wil too, so perhaps it’s not a terrible idea.” Phil agreed thoughtfully. Techno hadn’t heard much about what happened between Phil and Ghostbur on that day-Phil was hardly an open book-but he knew the ghost of his younger brother had been really shaken up.

Then again, watching the entire country that you built and died for-technically he did die for it if you think about it-go up in flames would shake you up pretty badly.

Ranboo’s long ears flicked as stray snowflakes drifted onto them. “I think I’ll stay here, for now. I’m not sure I want to go back just yet.” He seemed to want to say more, but stopped himself. Techno didn’t bother to ask. If the enderman wanted to speak, he would. Even if Techno didn’t want to hear it.

They continued walking, making amicable small talk until they reached the nether portal. Ranboo waved them goodbye as Phil and Techno disappeared in the swirling purple portal, appearing in the fiery hell that was the nether. After a Ghast attack, two Magma Cube suicides, and a rather uninterested Zombie Piglin, Phil and Techno stepped through the portal into L’Manberg, greeted by a light rain that couldn't quite put out the small fires still burning in the several craters that marked the outskirts of L’Manberg. The smell of smoke and gunpowder burned Techno’s nose, reminding him of how it felt to be standing at the edge of the void, watching as Tommy defended the person who had ordered Techno’s execution and his exile. His snout crinkled-from anger or from the smell he was not sure-and he began to make his way into the ruins of what was formerly enemy territory.


	5. Solitude With A Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ghostbur, after the destruction of L'Manberg and botched ressurection, has dedicated his time to searching for the reincarnated Friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So uh, how about Tommy's stream on monday, huh?
> 
> ..... I'm not sure how to feel about it. I think it was rather poetic, but it still was like "no, aw dude... damn."

_“Hey Wilbur, ever heard of the Ma situation?”_

Ghostbur grimaced as he tried to ignore the voice of the former president of L’Manberg as he strolled through the forest, lead in hand.

 _“God you’re no fun.”_ JSchlatt grumbled, his voice echoing in Ghostbur’s head. _“Look pal, I didn’t want to be brought back to this fuckin’ hell-hole of a world. But I got dragged by here by you and your little friends. I thought maybe it would be fun to actually, y’know, talk to someone, but you’re no fun anymore.”_

Ghostbur sighed, halting in a patch of sun that slid right through his translucent body. “Schlatt as much as I love talking to you, I’m a bit busy.” He had to find Friend again, after he had been blown up by… by… 

_“Yeah yeah, whatever. Anyway I’m off, I got somethin’ I wanna do in the afterlife anyway. So long, Soot.”_ And with that, Ghostbur could feel the presence of his long-lost friend disappear from his mind. At Schlatt’s exit, Ghostbur felt himself smiling a little, enjoying the day now that he wasn’t impeded by distractions. He adjusted his red beanie and looked around, listening intently for the sound of sheep. When he didn’t hear any he continued walking, a smile brightening his ghostly (pun intended) face. 

Ever since the destruction of L’Manberg, Ghostbur had been flickering in and out of this plane. Sometimes he could hear someone talking to him, as if from far away. It was him. Or, a darker version of him. Its voice was low and cruel, with a tired edge that told Ghostbur that this was Wilbur. From before he had been killed by Philza, before Tommy was exiled, before Tubbo was president. The voice was faint, and often provided Ghostbur with advice on songwriting. He didn’t mind the voice.

The voice left him alone. Sometimes it would disappear, only to come back and whisper about memories long forgotten to Ghostbur. The dead musician didn’t appreciate that. He knew that when he had been alive, been Wilbur, he had done horrible things. Everyone seemed content to remind him of that fact for a while. But Ghostbur didn’t want to hurt anyone! He just wanted to write books, make lanterns, write songs, be with Tommy, be with--

_Baaa_

Friend! Ghostbur rushed to the source of the baa-ing, grinning from ear to ear. He would recognize that call anywhere. Sure enough, as Ghostbur crested over a hill, he saw a familiar blue sheep mingled with several white ones, drifting like lazy clouds across a grassy sky. Ghostbur clutched the nametag in his hands as he scrambled down the hill towards the sheep. They paid him no mind, content to munch away at the grass beneath them. “Friend!” Ghostbur cried, barreling towards the sheep and throwing his arms around its fluffy neck, having little impact on the sheep since he was a ghost. The blue sheep baa-ed again, nuzzling Ghostbur’s face in greeting. Ghostbur slipped the nametag over Friend’s neck, beaming happily. “I spent so long looking for you! I never gave up, even when I was scared that you left me forever.” The sheep gazed at him idly, then nudged at his hip, looking for what his pocket held. Ghostbur started, remembering his precious Blue he kept, and took some out, offering it to Friend. “Ah, yes, have some blue!” Friend sniffed at it, getting some of the dye on his nose, and sneezed. He meandered off, Ghostbur following behind.

They wandered for a little while, Ghostbur keeping a hand on Friend’s fuzzy back, happy to have his beloved sheep back. Ghostbur rambled on about how L’Manberg had changed, the destruction kept pristine in memory of the event by Captain Puffy, who had covered the entire area in glass. He talked about how he had moved away, deciding that after everything he would rather be alone, especially with Dream still ruling over the server. He had gotten more controlling, pushing the boundaries of the BadLands, despite BadBoyHalo’s adamant refusal to cooperate. Ghostbur admitted that was a little out of character for the timid 9’6” demon, but that didn’t matter to Ghostbur. Nothing did, except finding and keeping Friend safe and at his side. 

“It’s not like I have anywhere to go, after all.” Ghostbur continued, absently stroking Friend’s wool. “Tommy and Tubbo are gone, and last time I left you with Phil he…” Ghostbur hesitated, memories of screaming and smoke invading his senses, the feeling of tears running down his face and the burning of raindrops on his translucent skin… Philza’s voice barely heard over the chaos. 

_“Maybe one day you’ll understand.”_

But he _didn’t_ understand. Blowing up an entire country, filled with innocents like Friend, just to send a message? It didn’t make any sense to him! But that cold voice that often accompanied him spoke up.

_“But you do understand, don’t you? After all, you did the same thing.”_

Ghostbur frowned, mentally swatting the voice away. “No, no that was Alivebur. I don’t remember any of that.”

_“But you remember Philza killing us. Don’t you know why he did that? It was a happy memory for you… for us.”_

“Go away!” Ghostbur snapped, causing Friend to look up curiously, concern shining in his eyes. “N-No, not you Friend. Come on, lets go home.” He put a leash on Friend’s name tag and pulled him in the direction of home.

About halfway there, deep in a lovely forest that smelled of music and pine, Ghostbur encountered a roadblock. 

This roadblock’s name was Philza Minecraft.

“Phil!” Ghostbur couldn’t help the joy that bubbled out of him at seeing his father again, despite their last encounter. Ghostbur was horrible at keeping grudges.

“Hello, Wil.” Phil smiled and adjusted his green robes, the shimmering of a netherite sword glinting from under them. Ghostbur remembered that sword, but surprisingly was not scared of it. “It took me a little while to find you, you don’t live in the L’Manberg area?” He fell into step beside Ghostbur, and Ghostbur carefully maneuvered Friend so the sheep was on his other side, away from the blonde man. 

“No, I thought maybe after it was all blown up I could start somewhere new!” He chirped, “And since the resurrection didn’t work, I figured there was no point in me staying there.”

Phil nodded, his smile warm and kind. “I see. I’m sorry about that…” the botched resurrection, leading the ghost of JSchlatt-or Glatt, as he so lovingly called himself-to merge with Ghostbur for a short while. “Eret is looking into another way to try. We’ll get you back, Wil.”

Ghostbur hummed in response, patting Friend as they walked. But the voice in his head grumbled, expressing reluctance to being revived. But Ghostbur wanted it. He wanted to be brought back, become Wilbur again, and be killed. This time, permanently. He had thought that maybe after L’Manberg had been destroyed, his unfinished business would be done and he could go back.

And yet, here he was. 

They arrived at a small cottage that Ghostbur had built. He wasn’t a fantastic builder, but it got the job done. Ghostbur led his father and Friend inside, looping Friend’s leash around a fencepost and retiring to the noteblocks in another room, tapping on them happily and filling the space with music. Phil followed, settling down on a chair and spreading his wings out.

Ghostbur had always been fascinated by Philza’s wings, how they shimmered with so many colors in the light, how they carried him on a breath of wind far above the mountains. Even as a kid, he would beg to be flown around, taken to the sky where he could feel well and truly free. Ghostbur continued tapping away, humming along as he felt his heart swell with music. He glanced at Phil who was listening with his eyes closed, seemingly content to rest. Ghostbur knew Phil was old, and had taken part in many battles. The scars that decorated his hands and arms told that story. But it was the lines on his face that told another. The crow’s feet at the corners of his eyes, the lines on his cheeks, the ones under his eyes. Years of jovial laughing had made Phil a pleasant man, but not even his permanent smile could erase the hardships he had endured. He was on his last life, Ghostbur recalled. How he lost the other two he wasn’t sure. Philza cracked open one eye, a grin revealing pearly white teeth. “What?”

Ghostbur realized he had been staring at Phil contemplatively, and shook his head. “Nothing. Just got distracted.” He offered a bright smile, one Phil returned warmly, and went back to his music.

After a long moment Phil sat up, tilting his head as he eyed the note blocks. “Where did you get all those?”

“Dream let me have them.” Ghostbur answered, repeating a melody and grinning as he wrote it down in a little book on a lectern. “He said Tommy didn’t need his anymore, so I got them.”

When all that answered him, he looked up to find Phil regarding him cooly. “Dream did, did he? Hm.”

Ghostbur felt a shiver go down his spine at the look his father gave him. It was rather unnerving. “Well, if Tommy wants them back I can give them back. But apparently he’s supposed to be gone for a long time. Do you know how long?” He looked up curiously. He didn’t know the entire story behind Tommy’s imprisonment. Only that when Tubbo died, Tommy had disappeared after collecting his things in L’Manberg. Dream told Ghostbur that he was keeping Tommy safe.

He didn’t know that Dream was the one who killed Tubbo, nor that Tommy was locked up against his will. The voice of Alivebur sometimes hinted at it, but Ghostbur refused to believe it. He would see Tommy again. And give him some blue!

Phil’s face grew solemn. “I don’t know, Wil. I don’t know.” He sounded sad, but Ghostbur couldn’t understand why. Phil had never been very close to Tommy, only visiting him a handful of times while Tommy had been in exile. Regardless, that didn’t matter. Tommy would be back, Ghostbur was sure of it. He had promised to help return Ghostbur to the land of the living, after all!  
Phil’s sorrow vanished from his face, replaced by a kind smile. “I’m glad you’re doing alright, Wil. I’ll come visit again, okay?”

“Okay, Phil!” Ghostbur grinned, waving happily. Phil hadn’t been here for long, but Ghostbur was sure he was busy planning the next demise of whatever governments sprung up in the ashes of L’Manberg. He heard a rumor that JackManifold was starting a place called Manifold Land. He thought that was a bit redundant, but fitting for Jack.

Phil waved and launched into the sky, soaring off. Ghostbur watched him until he disappeared over the mountains, finally relaxing when he was out of sight. He went back to Friend, who was sleeping in the corner. Ghostbur nestled into Friend’s blue wool, savoring the warmth that radiated from the sheep. He sighed, the smell of wet wool surrounding him as he looked out the window, the soft pattering of a spring storm catching his attention. 

It had begun to rain.


End file.
